


The Long Haul

by Petrichora_Vellichor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cas comforting Dean, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 06:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17976527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petrichora_Vellichor/pseuds/Petrichora_Vellichor
Summary: Dean has a nightmare while on the road. Fortunately, Cas is there. ***Now with art!***





	The Long Haul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FeaRauko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeaRauko/gifts).



> A belated birthday present for my dear friend Narraukoiel. 😊 Thank you for all of the amazing work you share with the fandom and for helping me remember how much I enjoy writing. 💙
> 
> (When does this take place, you ask? Hmm, good question. Let’s say that it’s at some point in the near-ish future when both Michael and the Empty are last season’s news and things are actually reasonably OK for once. Putting the “fiction” in “fanfiction”, I know.)
> 
> Absolutely gorgeous art at the end by [holydean](https://holydean.tumblr.com/). <3

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this exhausted. What had initially seemed like a routine salt-and-burn just south of Wichita had quickly devolved into a case involving a set of cursed sex toys and no less than _five_ very pissed off ghosts who’d apparently never quite gotten over their commune catching fire during an orgy back in the ’70s. He and Cas had managed it, but only barely.

As soon as the final spirit vanished with a burst of flame and several outdated–and, Dean couldn’t help but feel, pretty damn hypocritical, all things considered–slurs, Dean slumped against the nearest tree, closing his eyes and wincing slightly at what felt like at least one bruised rib. 

_So much for hippies being all about peace and love and all that crap…_

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Dean felt a familiar, feather-light touch against his temple. The pain in his abdomen faded, replaced by a warm, tingling sensation, and Dean opened his eyes just in time to see Cas’s gaze return from burning ice to its normal shade of blue.

“Are you all right?” Cas asked quietly, withdrawing his hand, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, ’m good, thanks. Man, talk about one for the books. Can’t wait to fill Sammy in on what he and Jack missed.”

Cas quirked a small smile. “Yes, I’m sure Sam will deeply regret not having been here for–what was the term you used? Oh, right: this ‘literal clusterfuck of a case.’ As for Jack, I’ll admit to more than a little relief that we don’t have to explain the particulars of, ah, group love. Truth be told,” admitted Cas with a thoughtful tilt of his head, “I’m not sure I fully understand all of the mechanics myself.”

Dean smirked. “Yeah, well, don’t worry, buddy; it ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Three can be fun, but any more than that’s just too much damn work.” 

_That_ earned him a shocked stare that quickly softened into one of amusement when Cas caught the glint in Dean’s eyes. “You’re joking.”

Dean chuckled, pushing off the tree and clapping Cas on the shoulder as he brushed past. “Not about three bein’ fun, but yeah, never done anything beyond that. So, you ready to head back? Should be able to make it home before dawn if we get goin’ now.”

“Dean, you’re exhausted. We should go back to the motel and leave in the morning, after you’ve rested.”

“Nah, place had crappy beds, and I miss my damn memory foam. Besides,” he added with a shrug as they approached Baby, “ain’t like I’ve never driven tired before.”

It was true. From the time he’d first learned to drive–which had admittedly been well before he was _legally_ old enough to drive–Dean had grown accustomed to long hauls on the open road. Often it had been because his dad had been hurt after a hunt gone awry; on other, rarer occasions such as his parents’ wedding anniversary, it was because John was drunk, and Dean sure as hell wasn’t going to let him drive with Sam in the car. Even in later years, when it had just been the two brothers, Dean had continued his habit of refusing Sam’s offers to drive when they were both obviously tired, usually by bitching about his younger brother’s probable choice of music until Sam would roll his eyes and shuffle toward the passenger side in defeat. Secretly, Dean didn’t give a damn what Sam played on the radio, but he always smiled when Sam, almost inevitably, ended up snoring softly against the passenger door. Some things, Dean knew, you just endured for the sake of the people you cared about.

Dean was reaching for the driver-side door when his fingers were abruptly blocked by Cas’s hand covering the handle. Letting out a huff of annoyance, he turned to ask Cas what the hell only to find a look of equal if not greater stubbornness on the angel’s face. “And it isn’t like _I’m_ not an angel of the Lord who doesn’t need to rest. You haven’t slept properly in days, and that fight took more out of you than you’re willing to admit. So, either you hand me the keys, or I’ll put you to sleep and retrieve them myself.”

If it had been anyone else, Dean would have continued to argue, but as he met Cas’s determined glare, he felt a long-familiar flush that he knew had nothing to do with anger creeping up the back of his neck. 

_Son of a bitch, not again…_

“Fine,” Dean grumbled, shoving the keys into Cas’s free hand before the angel could discern things in his expression that Dean would strongly prefer to leave unsaid. He stalked around to the passenger side, mentally kicking himself with words like _Cas_ and _off limits_ and _freaking_ angel, _for fuck’s sake_. Dean had long since come to accept, albeit grudgingly, that he might not be as straight as he’d once thought, but that didn’t mean he was going to let himself go full-metal gay for his best friend just because the way Cas looked at him made him _feel things_ sometimes. If there was one thing Dean was good at besides killing monsters, it was burying shit he’d rather not deal with.

They drove in silence, the late hour meaning that they had the road largely to themselves. Dean was determined to stay awake, but it turned out that pure spite wasn’t quite the energizer he remembered it to be, and he ended up drifting into an uneasy sleep about thirty minutes into the drive. 

He dreamed that he was underwater, flailing and gasping for breath. Fighting panic, he made a frantic swim for the surface only to find that it was a solid, translucent wall he was powerless to break through. 

_No…God, no, please, not again…_

He hadn’t been strong enough. Michael had won. And just like that, Dean knew that he was looking out through his body’s eyes and that those were _his hands_ wrapped around Cas’s neck in the bunker kitchen, Sam and Jack’s crumpled bodies lying on the floor nearby. All around Dean, a horrible, smug voice echoed through the depths…

_Because I can, Dean. Because I can._

Dean screamed. He beat his fists against the barrier until blood filled the water and stung his eyes, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered, he couldn’t do a damn thing to put the light back in Cas’s eyes, couldn’t even catch the angel’s body as it too was tossed aside. He was helpless, he was _useless_ , and this was all his fault, it was all his fault, it was–

“Dean!“

–all his–

_“Dean!”_

–fault…

“Dean, _wake up!_ ”

Dean opened his eyes with a gasp, jolting violently against an unyielding solid, and oh god, it hadn’t been a dream, he really was trapped, he–

“Dean.” Strong arms wrapped around him, gripping him tightly, and Dean heard the click of his seatbelt being released before he was pulled forward into a protective embrace. “Dean, it’s all right, you’re all right.” 

“…Cas?”

“I’m here.”

“Michael, he–” 

“Michael is gone. We beat him. You’re safe.”

_So are you._

Dean closed his eyes, let his head fall forward onto Cas’s shoulder, personal space be damned. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice weak and muffled against the rough fabric of Cas’s trenchcoat. “Fuck, goddamn it…”

They stayed like that, Cas’s hands moving in soothing circles against Dean’s back as Dean worked to regain control of his breathing. Dimly, he realized that Cas must have pulled over before managing to wake him: as he gazed sideways out the windshield, he saw wild grass illuminated by the headlights Cas hadn’t bothered to turn off. Part of Dean knew that he should pull back, that in his current position and state of mind he was liable to say something he’d immediately regret, but before he could muster up the energy to move, he was stilled by the soft sound of Cas’s voice:

“All the pain you’ve endured throughout your life…I wish that I could take it away.”

Dean felt a lump forming in his throat. “Yeah, well,” he managed to say, “’s’not like me cryin’ ’bout it’s gonna do any good. I can deal with it, ’s what I do.”

“I know.” Dean could hear the slow smile in Cas’s voice, even if he couldn’t see it. “You are the strongest being I have ever known, and in spite of everything you’ve gone through–”

“I’m a fucking mess, Cas.”

“–in spite of _everything you’ve gone through_ , you are brave, and you are thoughtful, and you are kind.” There was a pause, and Dean felt the rough tickle of Cas’s stubble as the angel turned to brush his lips against the base of Dean’s neck. “You are _good_ , Dean Winchester, whether or not you let yourself believe it.” Another pause; when Cas spoke again, his voice was barely louder than a whisper: “And if you cannot love yourself, then I will love you enough for the both of us.”

Dean stiffened in surprise, his breath catching in a way that should have been painful, except…no. No, he must have misunderstood, because there was no way, it just _wasn’t possible_ …

“I love you, Dean.”

…unless…

Dean pulled back abruptly, just far enough to see Cas’s face. The way Cas was looking at him…God, it shouldn’t have been possible, Dean never thought it could ever be fucking possible, and yet…

…it was. 

_I’m done burying this._

Before he could lose his nerve, Dean leaned forward into Cas and kissed him. Cas made a deep, needy sound in the back of his throat and pulled Dean flush against his chest, returning the kiss an intensity that burned away any trace of doubt still lingering in Dean’s mind. He wrapped one arm around Cas’s torso and brought his other hand up to tangle in the angel’s hair, gripping Cas just as tightly as Cas was gripping him and knowing in the most profound depths of his soul that this was good, this was _right_. 

He’d finally gotten something right.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181890421@N05/48027575246)

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr version of this story, if you enjoyed it and feel like sharing. :) [The Long Haul](https://petrichoravellichor.tumblr.com/post/183160061122/the-long-haul)
> 
> Kudos and/or comments are also greatly appreciated!


End file.
